The Chamber of Secrets, Indeed
by Tobithias
Summary: Tom expects Harry to be the Golden Boy hero, and to come swooping to Ginny's rescue. So when Harry does indeed come swooping in, but with no intention whatsoever of saving Ginny, Tom doesn't know what to think. OOC. Possible Slash
1. In Which Harry Gives No Fucks

**The Chamber of Secrets, Indeed**

**1: In Which Harry Gives No Fucks**

Tom had been watching the boy ever since he'd entered the Chamber, intrigued and slightly bewildered.

This was not what he had expected. And he was usually never wrong.

The boy- Harry, Harry Potter, the Chosen One, Dumbledore's Golden Boy, the one to have vanquished his other self- had, up until this point, ignored Ginny in favor of inspecting the Chamber. Even now, crouched over her form, he watched her in an oxymoronic mix of fascination and disinterest.

There was no overdramatic rush to her rescue, no pleas for her to wake up- there was, in fact, no attempt to wake her up at all. There was merely a clinical inspection; a cold interest in her condition, but not in the girl herself.

"She won't wake, you know," he finally said, more to see Harry's response than anything else. There was much more to this Golden Boy than little Ginevra had led him to believe.

The younger boy jerked slightly in surprise at the sudden address, and looked up.

"Well that's too bad," the boy replied musingly, rising to his feet and looking largely unperturbed by the knowledge. He prodded the girl's side with his foot.

"Too bad?" Tom prompted.

"Well, yeah. In my experience, corpses are always the hardest to explain, so this is a rather large inconvenience for me. Probably won't help the fact that people _already_ think I'm an evil git."

"You're not going to try to save her?"

"Well, you did just say she won't wake," the boy returned wryly, expression deadpanned. Suddenly, recognition sparked. "Say, aren't you Tom Riddle?"

Tom, quickly pulling himself together and shaking off his stupor, gave him a superior look.

"Yes," he replied, "and once Ginny's dead, I shall be back for good."

"Good for you," Harry returned flatly, giving him an unamused look. "Though wasn't it a little unwise to reveal your evil plan? Merlin, you're almost as bad as Voldemort."

Tom's face darkened, and he had to hold back a snarl when he replied, "Oh, but I _am _Voldemort, Harry. And soon, I shall return, in the flesh, and there's nothing you can to do to stop it. I'll kill you before the night it up!"

"Right, well, I'm leaving. If anyone asks, I tried oh so desperately to save Ginny, but you were simply too much," the boy said, sauntering back the way he came. If Tom had been a lesser man, his jaw would have dropped.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, "You can't just leave!"

"Yes I can," the boy replied without a pause in his step. "They don't pay me enough to deal with this shit; actually, they don't pay me at all. Perhaps I should charge for my services…? Anyway, Ginny's fairly obvious doomed, and I don't fancy sticking around to be killed. I don't see how any of this is my problem anyway, I don't even _like _Ginny."

Stunned, Tom watched the back of the boy disappear out of view, completely disregarding the life of his classmate.

Tom couldn't help but be impressed. By Ginny's impression of him, and even Tom's own impression of him in that brief period he possessed his diary, he would have taken the boy as an overly helpful, naïve and obnoxious Gryffindor with a hero-complex. From what he'd just observed, it seemed that the Gryffindor played on people's expectations of him, but was actually quite different.

He'd come down with the pretense of saving the girl because that's what others expected, but showed no actual interest in doing so. He was actually quite manipulative.

Tom gave a contemplative hum and a slightly unhinged laugh as he felt the last of Ginny's essence seep into him, allowing him to finally have a living body. He bent down fluidly and gracefully to retrieve the dead Weasley's wand.

Perhaps he wouldn't kill the boy, he mused to himself. They were, after all, extraordinarily alike, and Tom had never felt quite so kindred to anyone before.

* * *

_A/n: Don't own Harry Potter._


	2. In Which Tom Wants Answers

**_The Chamber of Secrets, Indeed_**

**_II: In Which Tom Wants Answers_**

As with all things that caught Tom Riddle's interest, Harry Potter had become an obsession. Harry was now less a person and more a festering question that nagged at Tom's conscience.

Tom didn't like being wrong—nor was he used to it. Yet, he'd obviously made a miscalculation _somewhere_. Heroes didn't just become nonchalant manipulators at the drop of a hat; they were either that way to begin with, or _something happened. _

Tom's running theory was the former, because what could've happened in the few months since Harry'd owned his diary? Maybe his parents died—oh wait! They were already dead. His bad.

So, after months of relentless pondering, Tom decided it was nigh time to put his quest for world domination on hold and get some answers.

Luckily, Hogwarts was out of session, and it just became a matter of tracking down the boy's home. Not that Tom _couldn't _break into Hogwarts, mind, it's just that it'd be… a bit more effort than he wanted to spend on a science experiment.

Finding the house—and what a _plain _house it was; Tom hated it already— was about as difficult as could be expected—Harry Potter was The-Boy-Who-Lived, after all, and for all he didn't act it in the Chamber, he was the wizarding world's savior; an investment to be protected.

The wards came as a surprise. Well, more specifically, the _intensity _of the wards came as a surprise—they were unlike anything he'd ever seen! Tom would have to be a fool not to expect any wards at all.

Thus, Tom partook in the sophisticated act of Harry-watching. He made observations, witnessed the boy in his natural environment, looking for any sign of what he'd seen in the Chamber.

For a long while, there wasn't even a speck of it.

Harry acted snarky and bold, occasionally had bursts of temper, and was overbearingly what he'd expected to see all those months ago.

It was frustrating. It was enlightening.

Harry kept his mask up almost _all the time. _Tom might've thought what he'd seen in the Chamber was the act—never mind the pointlessness of such a show—had he not caught a glimpse of it again, when Harry'd made the fat muggle woman expand like a balloon.

The "well this is going to be hard to explain", the impassive if slightly smug look, before everything shifted into the angry panic one would expect.

It confirmed what he'd seen, and it further highlighted their similarities. Both forced to live, unwanted, with stupid, sniveling muggle scum, both with masks and charms set in place to avoid suspicion…

Tom, were he more of the romantic sort, would've likened them to be soulmates.

But it still didn't answer the how, the why. Tom still wanted answers.

Answers that could only be provided via Harry Potter himself.

* * *

_A/n: Was a one-shot, now it's not, expect sporadic updates. I don't know what I'm doing, tbh. _

_Reviews are appreciated. I still don't own Harry Potter ._


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